Fated to a human

JC POV  

I tried everything—mouth-to-mouth breathing, chest compressions—over and over until I lost count. Tears poured down my face like a relentless waterfall, blurring my vision as I fought to save her. Nothing worked. She was gone. 

I sat there on the cold ground, helpless, clutching Haylie's lifeless body against mine. 

 My heart shattered as I held her close, the weight of her stillness pressing against my chest. Why did she have to go? 

My trembling hand reached to close her beautiful green eyes, but even that small gesture felt impossible. 

"I still need you," I whispered, my voice breaking through the sobs. The promise I had made to protect her echoed in my mind, mocking me now. My sister—the one who swore she wouldn't let it go this far—had broken her word. She had killed her. 

I bent my head, resting my forehead against Haylie's cold one, letting my tears fall freely onto her pale skin. "I will always love you, Haylie," I murmured, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of my soul. 

She was the first woman I'd ever truly loved, the first person who made me feel something other than emptiness. Before Haylie, my life was meaningless, selfish, and reckless. 

I didn't understand what love was until I met her. I was a monster, reveling in making women fall for me only to turn them into wolves against their will. But Haylie changed me. She saw a part of me I didn't even know existed—a man capable of love, of tenderness, of hope. 

For three short but perfect months, we built a life together in that little house. I spent every day with her, treasuring the moments that now felt like a distant dream. 

 We shared long nights by the fireplace, cracking jokes and letting the world fade away. 

On the nights when fear took hold of her, she would ask me to stay, and I'd lie beside her, falling asleep to the sound of her soft breaths. 

I missed those times more than words could express. Cooking together in the kitchen—though, let's be honest, I did most of the work. Her laughter still echoed in my mind, bright and melodic, a sound that could lift the heaviest of hearts. 

 And her voice... it was like a choir of angels, pure and radiant. Even now, as I closed my eyes, I could hear it, feel it. 

But she was gone, and the silence was deafening. 

I don't want to let go of her; she was the woman I loved and she was only sixteen and did not deserve this. I held her closer to my chest, her body was cold against my body. Tears was still escaping my eyes. 

 I felt like I could hold her like this forever because I wasn't ready to say good bey to her. She left me too soon and I don't want her to go. I still need her. 

Haylie POV  

My eyes remained locked on the wolf standing in front of me. The distant chirping of birds in the trees seemed to fade, leaving me alone with the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. 

The wolf didn't growl or show any signs of aggression. Instead, it lowered itself to the ground, sitting calmly in front of me. 

I didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified. 

"Haylie, don't be afraid," a deep, feminine voice spoke. 

My brows knitted together in confusion, and I turned my head toward the source of the sound. All I saw were trees swaying gently in the breeze—and the wolf. 

This is strange. I'm the only one here... right? 

The voice came again, more certain this time. "I am Snow. You don't have to be afraid." 

My breath hitched as my gaze snapped back to the wolf. My head tilted slightly, and I squinted at the creature, trying to make sense of what I'd just heard. Hesitantly, I raised a shaky finger and pointed at the wolf. "Did you just... talk?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. 

I let out a nervous laugh at how ridiculous I sounded. "Crazy me. Wolves don't talk." I chuckled, shaking my head, but my laughter faltered as the wolf moved her mouth. 

"I am talking now," she said, her voice calm yet resolute. 

The world tilted. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the ground, my back brushing against the rough bark of a tree. "Crap," I muttered, staring wide-eyed at the wolf. "You just freaking talked!" I exclaimed, struggling to catch my breath. "How is that even possible? You're a wolf!" 

The wolf bowed her head briefly before meeting my gaze. "My name is Snow," she said gently. "I am your wolf. You don't remember me because you've lost your memory." 

I clutched at my hair, my mind racing to keep up with what I was hearing. One moment, I was underwater, and the next, I was here—wherever here was—and now a wolf was speaking to me. 

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I asked, "So... your name is Snow, and you're my wolf?" 

"Yes," Snow replied. "I am here to help you remember where you came from." 

I stared at her, still struggling to accept the sight of her moving mouth forming words. Each time she spoke, it felt like reality was breaking apart. 

"So," I said, exhaling shakily, "if you're here to help me remember..." 

Snow nodded. 

"Then who were those three people? And why am I here?" I glanced around at the towering trees surrounding us, their presence both sheltering and stifling. 

Snow's expression softened. "Those three people are ones you know." 

I frowned. "The woman... why did she look like me?" 

The wolf stepped closer, her voice steady and patient. "Because she is your mother, Olivia. And the man with blond hair is your father, Kayson." 

My breath caught, and my eyes widened in shock. "That was... my mother and father?" 

"How is this possible?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "They looked so young, and my mother... she looked like she was barely out of her teens." My words stumbled out as I tried to make sense of it all. "Why am I seeing this?" 

I tried to rise from the ground, but my legs were too weak to hold me. The shock must have been too much, and I had no choice but to remain seated a little longer. 

"I want you to remember where you came from and what happened—why you've forgotten who you are," Snow said gently. 

I gave her a slight nod, though my mind swirled with confusion. Before I could speak again, the forest around me began to shift and blur. My head spun, dizziness and nausea overwhelming me as the tall trees faded from view. 

When the world stopped spinning, I found myself sitting on cold gray tiles instead of dirt. Blinking rapidly, I looked around. 

"Where am I?" I asked aloud, my voice echoing slightly. 

The room was enormous—too big to be just any bathroom. Snow stood beside me, unbothered, while I took in my new surroundings. 

My thoughts were interrupted by the creak of a door opening. The sound reverberated through the spacious bathroom, and I instinctively scrambled to hide behind a large wooden laundry basket. 

Snow padded over to me, tilting her head. "You're being silly. Why are you hiding?" 

I gave her a wide-eyed look. "Are you kidding me? They'll see us!" 

Snow chuckled softly, her voice calm. "They can't see you. We're invisible. This has already happened." 

Her words made my heart skip a beat. Peeking out from behind the basket, I saw her—the woman from the forest. She looked just like me. 

But something was wrong. Her face was lined with worry, and her movements were hesitant as she crossed the room. She sat down on the toilet, and realization dawned on me. 

"Oh no," I whispered, clamping my hands over my eyes. "Don't tell me this is happening!" Embarrassment coursed through me as I tried not to look. 

The bathroom fell silent except for the soft sound of the woman sniffing. Tentatively, I lowered my hands and peeked again. 

"This was the moment your mother found out she was expecting you," Snow said softly, her voice filled with unspoken tenderness. 

My hand froze halfway to my mouth, my gaze snapping to Snow. "You mean... she was pregnant with me?" I turned back to the woman just in time to see her holding a pregnancy test in her trembling hands. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her features crumpling as she stared at the test. My heart ached at the sight, a mix of emotions I couldn't untangle. 

"Why isn't she happy?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Did my mother even want me?" 

I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to make sense of the scene before me. The woman—my mother—stood and flushed the toilet, then moved to the sink to wash her hands and face. She seemed lost in thought, her expression heavy with sorrow. 

"This was the day before her wedding," Snow said gently. 

I frowned, my confusion deepening. "But isn't this good news? Why does she look so upset? Didn't she want me?" My voice cracked with the weight of my questions. 

Snow sighed softly, her gaze following the woman's movements. "She wanted you. She always wanted you. But she wasn't marrying your father." 

Her words hit me like a blow. I turned to her, disbelief etched on my face. "What do you mean? Who was she marrying?" 

Snow's eyes held a mixture of pity and sadness as she answered. "She was marrying Mathew—her fated mate. Your father, Kayson, was Mathew's best friend." 

The room spun again, but this time it wasn't the strange magic transporting me. It was pure, unfiltered shock. My hand flew to my mouth as my eyes widened. 

"You're telling me my mother had an affair?" The words spilled from my lips, bitter and disbelieving. 

I stared at the woman who claimed to be my mother, now sinking to the floor beside the sink, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. She clutched the test in her trembling hands, her expression a mixture of despair and disbelief. 

She looked so young—my mother. And yet, as I studied her, the strangest thing was how much she resembled me, only slightly older. My heart skipped a beat when I heard a man's voice from behind the bathroom door. 

"Olivia, my love, are you okay?" 

I turned sharply to my wolf, confusion etched on my face. "Who is that? Is that my father?" 

Snow's gaze stayed fixed on the woman. I turned back just in time to hear her reply, her voice trembling but composed. 

"I'm fine. I'll be out in a second," she said. 

Before I could process the scene any further, the room began to shift again. My stomach churned as the bathroom dissolved, the tiled floor vanishing beneath me. In its place, soft grass cushioned my body, and I found myself in an expansive garden surrounded by blooming flowers and vibrant greenery. 

"What the hell?" I exclaimed, frustration spilling over. 

I rose to my feet, relieved to feel strength returning to my legs. Crossing my arms over my chest, I turned to Snow. "Who was the man behind the door? And why are we shifting like this?" 

Snow's expression turned serious. "The man behind the door was Mathew," she said simply. "But that isn't what's important right now. This is." 

Before I could question her further, the sound of voices drifted through the air, pulling my attention. My heart skipped a beat at their familiarity. Without hesitation, I followed the voices, weaving through the garden until something caught my eye. 

 In the distance, a flash of white fabric peeked out from behind a row of hedges. I slowed my steps, moving carefully until the scene unfolded before me. 

It was my mother. She stood there in a stunning wedding gown, the fabric shimmering in the sunlight. The dress had a heart-shaped neckline, delicate lace covering her shoulders and arms. The skirt flowed out in a wide, breathtaking cascade of white. Her hair was curled and adorned with lace, which trailed elegantly from her head. In her hands, she held a bouquet of daisies. 

For a moment, I was struck by her beauty. She looked radiant, almost otherworldly. But as I moved closer, I noticed she was in deep conversation with someone. 

And then I froze. 

The man standing before her was Kayson—the one Snow had called my father. 

He was tall, with piercing blue eyes and blond hair that caught the light. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt, though his sleeves were rolled up, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. His handsome features were marred by sadness, tears glistening in his eyes as he gazed at my mother. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly. 

I could only stand there, frozen, trying to piece together what they were talking about. My chest tightened as a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. 

"What is this about?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. 

I turned to Snow, who had silently taken a seat beside me. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes focused on the pair in front of us. 

This moment—this memory—felt pivotal, and yet I had no idea why. 

I shifted my gaze back to my mother and father, my chest tightening as I watched tears stream down her flushed cheeks. She looked fragile yet determined, her voice breaking as she spoke. 

"I'm sure," she said softly, trembling. "I took a test yesterday because I was feeling nauseous and suddenly sick out of nowhere." 

My hand flew to my mouth as I stifled a gasp. This was it—the moment my mother told my father she was expecting me. And it was happening on her wedding day. 

 Turning to Snow, I lowered my hand, incredulous. "Are you freaking kidding me? She told him she was pregnant with me on her wedding day?" I whispered fiercely. 

Snow remained silent, her expression unreadable. That silence only fueled my frustration. I turned back to my parents, my emotions a whirlwind of shock, disbelief, and curiosity. 

"I thought we were careful," my father said, his voice tight with panic. "We could barely remember what happened that night." 

Barely remember? My arms crossed over my chest as I leaned closer, piecing together their conversation. Were they drunk? 

I watched my father start pacing, running a nervous hand through his thick blond hair. He looked utterly overwhelmed, his usual composed demeanor unraveling before my eyes. 

"I'm sure," Olivia said, her voice resolute despite the tears. "I went to the doctor yesterday. I'm exactly a month and a half along—the same time Mathew was out of town, and that one night happened." 

My jaw dropped. My lips parted, but no words came out. A month and a half? That one night? 

This was insane. 

I barely had time to process the implications before I felt a presence beside me. My body tensed as I turned my head, and I nearly screamed when I saw him—the tall, dark-haired man from the woods. 

Mathew. 

I stumbled back a step, heart pounding. "What the heck?" I hissed under my breath. 

Snow intervened quickly, her voice calm but firm. "It's okay. He can't see or feel you." 

Even with her reassurance, my pulse raced as I turned my wide eyes back to Mathew. He stood frozen, his expression darkening by the second. Then, I followed his gaze and realized he was watching my parents. 

"We didn't ask for this, Kayson," Olivia said, her tone pleading but unwavering. "But this is our child. He or she didn't ask for any of this either." 

"Oh, shit," I muttered, the words slipping out involuntarily. 

 Mathew's face changed—his eyes hardened, his jaw clenched. The air around him seemed to shift, growing colder. He stood there, unmoving, but the weight of his presence was suffocating. 

My stomach churned as I looked back at my mother and father, still engrossed in their intense conversation. They had no idea the bombshell they'd just dropped—or the storm brewing mere feet away. 

My mind raced. My mother had just unraveled everything I thought I knew. 

And Mathew...he looked like he was ready to destroy it all. 

I took a step backward, my breath hitching as I watched Mathew step out into the light. My parents froze, their eyes snapping to him. 

He emerged from behind the bush where he'd been standing, his presence looming and unmissable. 

"Mathew," my mother whispered, her voice trembling as she looked at him. Tears streaked her face, smudging her mascara, her eyes pools of raw emotion. 

My legs threatened to give out beneath me, the weight of the scene before me pressing down like a storm. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it. 

My father moved instinctively, stepping beside my mother, his posture tense and protective. Then Mathew spoke, his voice raw and strained, barely holding back his emotions. 

"Is it true?" His words hung in the air like thunder. "Is it true that you're expecting Kayson's child?" 

I gasped, struggling to breathe. This was no ordinary drama—this was chaos, heartbreak, and betrayal playing out right in front of me. My gaze darted to my mother, desperate to hear her response. 

"It's true," she whispered, her voice barely audible but heavy with finality. 

Beside her, my father flinched. "Olivia," he said, his voice tight, filled with both anguish and disbelief. 

She turned to him, her tears flowing freely now. Her trembling hand moved to her lower abdomen, her fingers resting protectively over the life growing within her. "I'm expecting," she said softly, her voice breaking. 

 I felt my blood drain from my face, a cold wave of shock sweeping over me. My vision blurred, but I forced myself to focus on what was unfolding before me. 

Mathew stood motionless, tears sliding down his face. He looked shattered, his broad shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had just crushed him. His voice cracked as he spoke again, his eyes never leaving my mother. 

"I thought I was imagining things," he said hoarsely. "When I heard that faint heartbeat...when my wolf sensed something." His gaze dropped briefly; his pain palpable. "But this morning, when I saw the test in the bathroom, I knew it was real. I thought—I thought I was going to be a father. That we were going to be parents." 

His words hit like a punch to the chest, and I could feel the room spinning, though we weren't even indoors. Mathew's pain was undeniable, his heartbreak written in every tear and every shaky word. 

I stood frozen, unable to move, unable to process what I was witnessing. My parents' complicated past was unraveling before me, dragging everyone into a storm of unresolved emotions and shattered dreams. 

And I was at the center of it all. 

I took a step forward, my gaze falling on my mother, who stood beside my father. Her face was streaked with tears, her flushed cheeks evidence of her anguish. Her makeup was long gone, her puffy, red eyes filled with regret. 

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Mathew," she said, her voice trembling and broken. Her lips quivered with the weight of her emotions, her entire frame shivering under the pressure of her confession. 

"She's truly sorry," I murmured to my wolf, Snow, turning toward her. "I can feel it in my heart—she didn't mean for any of this to happen." 

Even as a ghost, I could almost feel my parents' emotions radiating in that moment. My gaze shifted back to them, taking in my father, who stood protectively beside my mother. His hand rested firmly on her upper arm, silently reassuring her that he was there. 

"You're sorry?" Mathew's voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and filled with anguish. 

I turned toward him, my focus snapping to the tears streaming down his face. His eyes locked onto my mother's, his expression a mixture of pain and betrayal. 

 "You're my mate, the woman I love," he said, his voice trembling. "And yet, you went behind my back and slept with my best friend. And now… now you want to tell me you're sorry?" 

The air grew thick with tension, the raw emotions between them suffocating. I could see the pain etched into both their faces, mirrored in their eyes. 

Before I could fully process the moment, the sound of rustling in the bushes drew my attention. I turned quickly, my heart racing, and nearly jumped when I saw a small child emerge from the foliage. 

"Daddy!" the boy called out, his tiny voice piercing through the charged atmosphere. 

My brows furrowed in confusion as I stared at the toddler. He walked toward Mathew with unsteady steps, his little hand reaching out. 

"Who is he?" I asked Snow, my voice laced with confusion. 

Snow's silence was unnerving as my parents' attention shifted to the child. Mathew looked equally bewildered as he turned toward the boy. 

"Liam?" Mathew's voice was filled with surprise. "What are you doing here?" 

Shock washed over me as I took in the scene before me. The toddler toddled up to Mathew and held out his arms. "Dada," he said, his voice soft but certain. 

The name sent a chill down my spine, a strange familiarity tugging at the edges of my memory. It meant something to me—I just couldn't remember what. 

I turned back to Snow, my voice barely a whisper. "Why do they look so alike?" 

"Because," Snow said, his tone low and steady, "that's Mathew's son, Liam. And you know him, too." 

The revelation stunned me, my gaze snapping back to the scene. My mother's face drained of color, her eyes wide with shock and fear as she stared at Mathew and the boy. Beside her, my father's fists clenched tightly at his sides, his body trembling as though he were about to explode. 

"He's your son," my mother finally said, her voice cutting through the tense silence like a razor. 

I held my breath, the weight of her words heavy in the air. 

Another voice broke through the tension. "Liam, where are you?" 

 My eyes shifted toward the direction of the voice, and I saw a young woman with long brown hair stepping into view. Her features—soft brown eyes and delicate features—resembled Liam's so closely that I immediately knew she must be his mother. 

"Sorry about that," she said apologetically, stepping closer and scooping Liam into her arms. "Liam keeps wandering off." 

Silence settled over the group again, thick and awkward. Mathew's voice broke it, deep and laden with emotion. "Just… keep an eye on him. Don't let it happen again." 

The woman hesitated, her gaze flicking to my mother. She seemed to sense the gravity of the moment and quickly nodded. "I'll see you later," she said softly, then turned and walked away with Liam in her arms. 

My hand instinctively flew to my mouth as the realization struck me. Betrayal. They had all betrayed one another, and yet here Mathew was, pointing fingers. He had a child with another woman, and by the look on my mother's face, it was clear she had no idea. 

Her emotions radiated in waves as she stared at Mathew, her voice breaking as she spoke. "You have a son with another woman?" 

Mathew stepped forward, reaching out to her. "Olivia, I can explain—" 

"Don't touch me!" she shouted, pushing him away. Her voice was a mixture of anger and heartbreak. "You want to judge me for my mistakes—a mistake that happened one time—but maybe you should take a look in the mirror and face your own." 

The rawness of her pain was so intense that even I, as a ghost, could feel it. Her gaze darted between my father and Mathew; her emotions written all over her face. 

"I wanted to tell you so many times," Mathew said, his voice pleading. "I just... I wanted to find the right moment to tell you about Liam." 

Olivia stared at him, her expression a mixture of hurt and disbelief. Mathew reached out again, trying to touch her arm. 

"It was a mistake," he said softly. "What happened with Liam—it was a long time ago." 

"A long time ago?" my father, Kaysen, interjected, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. His tone was calm but carried an undercurrent of fury. "Tell her the truth, Mathew." 

 The atmosphere thickened, emotions crackling in the air like an impending storm. No one dared to move, caught in the web of revelations that had unraveled before the. 

My father's eyes darkened to a stormy blue, his fists trembling at his sides, barely containing the rage surging within. The tension in his jaw was palpable, each breath labored as he fought to maintain control. 

My mother, her face a mix of anguish and defiance, took a deliberate step back, pulling herself from Mathew's proximity. Her voice, sharp as broken glass, cut through the silence. 

"I am sorry if I betrayed you," she said, her words trembling with both apology and accusation, "but I would never keep a secret like this—like you did with your son." 

Mathew opened his mouth to respond, desperation flashing in his eyes, but before he could speak, my mother turned and bolted. 

 Her footsteps echoed against the ground beneath her, before fading into the garden, leaving only the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. 

Left behind, was Mathew and my father faced each other in the aftermath, the silence between them heavy and oppressive.